by Al Lacy
“Welcome, Doctor! Come on in. I need to put a helmet on you.”
Wearing old clothes, Dr. Dane stepped in and noted two metal helmets lying on Kirby’s desk. Each had a lamp in the front.
Picking up one of the helmets, Kirby struck a match and lit the lamp. “This is so you can see where you’re going anywhere down in the mine. The grease in the lamp that I just lit is called ‘sunshine.’ All the miners wear them so they will have light to work by when they leave the torchlit main passageways and can see to make their way in the darkness of the narrow tunnels.”
Dr. Dane grinned as Kirby placed the helmet on his head. “Well, I’m glad somebody invented that ‘sunshine’ stuff.”
Kirby chuckled as he picked up the other helmet and lit the lamp. “Me, too. Sure makes things a lot easier down there in all that darkness.”
As Kirby placed the lamp on his own head, Dr. Dane said, “I just went by the Frye home. Ben is doing quite well.”
The mine owner smiled. “You did a good job on Ben, Doctor. He’s the best foreman I’ve ever had. Well, let’s go.”
They stepped outside and Kirby Holton led the doctor down toward two large open shafts.
“See those shafts in the ground, Doctor?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“They are operated with cages. You will notice that only one cage is visible at the top of a shaft at this moment.”
“I see it.”
“The other one is down in the mine. Those two cages are on pulleys and are used to lower miners into the depths of the mine and raise them out, and to raise coal out of the mine in the small rail cars that are pulled through the mine tunnels by the mules that live and work down there. Up here on the surface, the coal is weighed, then placed in those large wagons over there.”
“I see.”
Kirby pointed to the two harnessed mules at each shaft. Each pair was hitched to a large horizontal wheel beside the shafts. “See how those mules are hitched to those big wheels?”
“Uh-huh.”
At that instant, a mine worker stepped up to the pair of mules at the shaft where no cage was visible. He put the mules in motion, leading them by short lengths of rope.
Kirby went on. “The wheels control the cage’s pulley ropes. As you can see, the mules walk in a circle, turning the wheels, lowering and raising the cages.”
Dr. Dane nodded. “Well, those wheels are large enough to give plenty of leverage for the mules, I’ll say that.”
“Yes, sir.” Kirby pointed to the large wagons close by. “Those wagons are used to carry the coal to our customers in other mountain towns, as well as carrying it all the way to Denver to be marketed to customers on that side of the Rockies. They also load coal into railroad cars and carry it to distributors north, south, east, and west in the country.”
“Sounds like you’ve got the coal mining business working good for you, Kirby.”
They were drawing up to the two shafts. Dr. Dane noticed small piles of shale and rock in the area.
The cage that had been down in the mine moments ago was coming up with a loaded coal car and four men. As the mine owner and his guest came to a halt, the car was rolled onto stationary ground tracks by the four men. Then Kirby Holton walked up to the man who was in charge of the mules and told him to lower Dr. Logan and himself down into the mine.
Kirby ushered his guest into the cage, and the mules were put in motion at the large wheel.
While they were being lowered slowly into the dark shaft, Dr. Dane said, “I’ve read a little about black lung disease. What percentage of your coal miners get it?”
“I can’t really give you an accurate percentage, but many men come down with it after they’ve worked in the mine for a few years. Eight or nine years, I’d say. For others it takes maybe a dozen years or so. And still others never get it.”
“Oh. Guess I haven’t read enough on the subject. I thought all of them eventually get it if they stay at it very long.”
As they dropped into the mine’s depths and the darkness enveloped them, Dr. Dane was glad for the lamp on his helmet. The thought of being so deep in the earth sent a shudder through him. The damp chill in the air seemed to trickle into the marrow of his bones.
Soon they reached the bottom of the shaft. Dr. Dane noted the flaming kerosene torches that were fixed on the rough walls of the passageway where they stood.
“Well,” said Holton, “we’re now almost three hundred feet below the surface.”
The thought of it brushed Dane like a cold finger, raising a chill on the surface of his skin.
Holton looked at his guest, noting his uneasiness. “Just so you’ll know, Doctor, throughout the mine there are air shafts some twelve inches in diameter to let gases out and clean air in.”
Dr. Dane nodded. “That’s good to know.”
Kirby then pointed to eight-by-ten-foot structures on each side of the two shafts. “Those are called powder houses.’ They contain dynamite sticks, which as you probably know, are used in the mine to open up new tunnels. We also use it to blast away stubborn sections of coal from the walls of existing tunnels. All the loose coal is loaded into the small coal cars on the tracks that you see at your feet. These tracks are on the floor of every tunnel and passageway. My men also use picks to break loose coal that is embedded shallowly in the tunnel walls, which of course, have been opened with the dynamite.”
Dr. Dane ran his gaze over the wooden structures. “Interesting.”
Moving a few steps with his guest following, Kirby pointed to the other side of the passageway. “Over here, Doctor, you see feeding troughs and bins along the wall. As you can see, the bins are stuffed with hay bales. This hay feeds the mules I mentioned, that live down here and pull the coal cars. You will notice that next to the troughs are these open tanks of water. We keep our beasts of burden well supplied with water.”
“I can see that they are well-fed and well-watered.”
“Let’s go on down the passageway.”
As they moved slowly between the rugged stone walls, Kirby pointed upward. “See those twelve-by-twelve-inch wooden beams that rest on those vertical beams?”
Looking up, Dr. Dane nodded. “Uh-huh. They form a protective ceiling, don’t they?”
“Yes. They are in every tunnel and passageway.”
Soon they came to a pair of mules that were pulling a loaded coal car on the track in the center of the passageway.
Dr. Dane recognized the man driving the mules. He had treated Russ Mooney for a burned hand the first week he had owned the practice.
“Hello, Russ!”
Mooney smiled broadly. “Howdy, Doc!” He chuckled. “You lookin’ for a job down here?”
Dr. Dane laughed. “Not exactly. I’m just taking the tour.”
Mooney looked at Holton. “Well, give him a good one, boss!”
“He’s doing that, all right,” said Dr. Dane.
Mooney moved on.
Moments later, they left the wide, torchlit passageway, and Dr. Dane found himself more than glad he was wearing the helmet with the sunshine lamp.
They visited miners who were busy chipping coal from the walls of the tunnels and filling coal cars to which mules were harnessed.
At one point, they came upon assistant foreman Art Berman, who was teaching a new young miner how to dig the coal from the walls. Kirby and Dr. Dane heard him giving the young man instructions on how to hold the pick he was using.
Art looked up and recognized his boss first.
“Howdy, Kirby. Who you got with—Well, I’ll be! Howdy, Dr. Logan!”
Dr. Dane grinned. “Howdy, yourself, Art.” A tiny light twinkled in his eyes. “This young man teaching you anything?”
The young miner chuckled. “I’m trying, sir, but he’s so old, he’s havin’ a hard time getting it. Can’t teach an old dog new tricks, you know!”
Art playfully cuffed the young miner on the chin. “Back to work, buster, or I’ll cut your pay!”
Kirby
and Dr. Dane were laughing together as they moved on.
They came to a spot where the tunnel was a bit narrow and the combination of walls and darkness seemed to envelope Kirby’s guest.
Dr. Dane took a deep breath. “Whew!”
Kirby stopped and looked at him. “You all right?”
Dr. Dane took another deep breath. “Having a little claustrophobia.”
“Oh. I had that problem the first time I went down into a mine. Lots of new miners have it, but in time, it goes away.”
The tour was over after an hour and a half, and Dr. Dane was glad that he and the mine owner were riding upward in the cage where there was more air and lots of sunshine.
When they reached the top and the cage came to a halt, they saw Greg Holton and three other miners climbing into the cage of the other shaft, about to descend into the mine.
Greg smiled at his father and the doctor. “Hi, Dad. So how’d it go, Doctor?”
“Well, I had a little touch of claustrophobia, but I made it through the tour all right.”
“What do you think of the mine?”
Dr. Dane smiled. “Its awesome, Greg. Awesome.”
The cage started down, and Greg gave his father and the doctor a wave.
Kirby climbed out of the cage with Dr. Dane right behind him. As they moved toward the office building, Dr. Dane said, “Thanks for the tour.”
“You’re welcome. I hope you enjoyed it.”
“Oh, I did, even though I felt a little apprehension at times, being so far down into the mountains bowels, but I really did enjoy it.”
When Dr. Dane returned to his office, Dr. Fraser was alone. He was seated at the desk, making notes in a patient’s file. He looked up with a smile. “Tharyn’s in the back room, stocking the medicine cabinet. A new shipment just came in on the stagecoach from Denver. She should be just about finished.”
Dr. Dane nodded. “Good.”
Fraser rose from the desk, placed the file in the cabinet, then turned and cocked his head sideways. “So did you have a good time?”
At the same moment, Tharyn came into the office.
Dane smiled at her, then looked at the elderly doctor as he replied, “I had a very good time. That mine is awesome.”
Fraser nodded. “I knew you’d enjoy it.”
Moving up to him, Tharyn asked, “How about all that darkness? Did it get to you at all?”
“Well, I did experience some claustrophobia in those tunnels and passageways. Those rock walls seemed to be closing in on me at times. Add the darkness to that, and I did feel a little apprehension once in a while.”
“I thought you might. I’m told that most new miners experience that kind of thing for a while.” She reached down and picked up a yellow envelope off the desk. “Charlie Holmes delivered this about an hour ago. He said it’s from Dr. Carroll.”
“Okay.” Taking the envelope in hand, Dr. Dane opened it, took out the telegram, and read it while Tharyn and Dr. Fraser looked on. He set his gaze on Tharyn. “Dr. Carroll wanted to let me know that Nelda is doing well, but he asked us to pray for Dr. Tim Braden. He says Tim is having a very difficult time over Melinda’s death.”
“Bless his heart,” said Tharyn, her eyes growing misty.
“Esther and I will pray for him,” said Dr. Fraser. “Well, I guess I’d better go home. See you later.”
When Dr. Fraser was gone, Dane said, “Honey, I’ll go over to the telegraph office and send two telegrams; one to Dr. Carroll and the other to Tim. I’ll tell Dr. Carroll that I will have Pastor Shane tell the church about Melinda’s death and ask everyone to pray for their brother in Christ, Dr. Tim Braden. In my wire to Tim, I’ll tell him that you and I are holding him up in prayer.”
Tharyn sniffed and wiped the mist from her eyes. “All right, darling. If anyone comes in needing you, I’ll tell them you’ll be back shortly.”
Nearly a half hour had passed when Dr. Dane returned to his office. When he stepped in, there were no patients in the waiting area, and Tharyn was not at her desk.
He moved across the office, opened the door to the back room, and saw Tharyn standing by the medicine cabinet, her head bent low. She was weeping.
She looked up through her tears as he headed toward her and wept harder.
Dane folded her in his arms. “Honey, what’s wrong?”
Tharyn clung to him and laid her head against his chest. She sobbed hard for a moment, then took a deep breath and sniffed. “Like Tim, I’m having a hard time over Melinda’s death. I’m not questioning the Lord, darling. I know He has a plan for all of His children, but some things are just hard to understand.”
She had a hankie in her hand. She used it to wipe tears from her eyes and sniffed again. Her head was still laid against his chest.
Dane’s chin was resting on top of her head. His strong arms held her tight. “I know, love. But we don’t have to understand God’s reasoning. We only need to accept His will, and to remember that in all things, He is sovereign. Let me show you a couple of verses that have meant a lot to me. I’m sure they will help you.”
A Bible lay on a small table nearby. Dane let go of her, stepped to the table, and picked up the Bible. She stepped up close as he flipped pages.
“Here, honey. This one’s in Nahum 1:7. ‘The LORD is good, a strong hold in the day of trouble; and he knoweth them that trust in him.’ ”
Tharyn wiped more tears and looked up at him. “That’s good, honey. Really good.”
Dane flipped back to the Psalms. “Here’s another one that has meant so much to me. Psalm 61:2. ‘From the end of the earth will I cry unto thee, when my heart is overwhelmed: lead me to the rock that is higher than I.’ Claim it as your own, sweetheart. Jesus is the Rock. Take this burden over Melinda’s death to Him. He alone will sustain you as no one else can.”
Tharyn wiped away more tears and looked at the verse as Dane held the Bible in his hands. She read it silently, then looked up at him again. “Thank you, darling. What a beautiful verse. My heart is indeed overwhelmed. I surely will let the Rock that is higher than I comfort me and give me peace.”
She rose up on her tiptoes and kissed him tenderly. “Thank you. Both verses have already given me a measure of peace and strength.”
TWENTY-TWO
On Sunday morning Greg Holton felt he had never been happier as he guided the buggy off of Main Street and headed for the street where the Downing house was located. The sun was shining brightly in a clear blue sky, and he was excited about the picnic he and Cassandra had planned in the mountains.
Greg was so in love with the beautiful brunette, he could hardly think of anything else but the upcoming day in November when the two of them would stand before the Gilpin County judge and take their marriage vows.
As he turned the corner onto the street where the Downing house stood, he caught sight of Cassandra standing on the front porch, holding the picnic basket. She saw him coming and waved to him. The sight of her fanned the flame in his heart.
He waved back and put the horse to a faster trot. When he pulled up into the yard, his pulse quickened. She was in a blue and yellow dress and had a matching ribbon in her long, black hair. He loved the smoothness of her skin and the way she carried herself. To him, what he saw in her eyes was a knowledge of what life was all about. He felt it in her, and as he hopped out of the buggy while she was coming down the porch steps with the picnic basket in her hand, that profound knowledge was a quality that came across the space between them and touched him.
Smiling, Cassandra drew up to him. “Good morning, my darling. I’m so excited about our having this day together.”
“Me, too,” he said, taking the basket from her.
She lifted her lips up to him. He looked around to see if anyone in the area was watching them.
She giggled. “Don’t worry about the neighbors. You can kiss me. We’re engaged. Aunt Mabel has already gone to church. And even if she was still here, you could still kiss me.”
Gre
g kissed her tenderly, then put his arm around her and guided her to the buggy. He placed the picnic basket on the floor behind the front seat, then helped her in. Quickly, he rounded the buggy, climbed in, and sat down beside her. Taking the reins in hand, he put the horse in motion.
Moments later, they turned onto Main Street and headed out of town. Soon they were driving past the church. The windows were open, and they could hear the people singing inside.
Cassandra made a snorting sound and sneered as she looked at the steepled building with the cross on top. “What a waste of time—going to church and singing hymns.”
Greg shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. I’ve thought of visiting a service sometime, just to see what it’s like. Pastor Shane has visited Dad and me at our house a few times and showed us things from the Bible that make good sense.”
The muscles of Cassandra’s face tightened at such words, and she felt a hot ball form in her stomach. She told herself she must keep Greg from ever getting interested in church and all that went with it.
She was glad she had already convinced him that when they got married, it would be before the county judge. She didn’t want to get married in a church building before some fanatical Bible preacher.
On Monday morning, Deputy Marshal Len Kurtz was standing on the boardwalk in front of the marshals office just as the sun was rising over the eastern peaks. Marshal Jake Merrell handed his deputy a white envelope. “You know where the Jamison ranch is, don’t you?”
Len nodded. “Mm-hmm. ’Bout five miles southwest of the Holton Mine. Big red barn with white trim, just like the ranch house.”
Jake grinned. “That’s the place. Since Fred Jamison was a witness to that drunken brawl at the saloon on Saturday when that drifter got himself killed, Judge Cook wants him to get this court summons this morning. I figure by sending you right now, you’ll catch him at home, probably doing his chores.”
Sticking the envelope in his vest pocket, Len said, “I’ll see that he gets it right away, Marshal.” With that, he stepped off the boardwalk, mounted his horse, and rode away at a gallop.